


tooraliooraliaddity

by Darkhorse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Song fic, Tribute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhorse/pseuds/Darkhorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Fading Away by theoreticallychaotic</p>
            </blockquote>





	tooraliooraliaddity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theoreticallychaotic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticallychaotic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fading Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011287) by [theoreticallychaotic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticallychaotic/pseuds/theoreticallychaotic). 



The boat turned and rolled. The prison wader kept his feet, just barely, and wished himself shorter than his over sixfoot frame. He felt it would be all too easy to topple over the rail, which didn't even reach his waist, and into the angry grey sea that churned below. And he'd rather not drown, if only to not inconvenience his commander. He was about the only guard still standing, all the others were too miserably sea-sick to be any use. However, most of the convicts were also heaving miserably, a sign there was still justice in the world. His duty was simply to watch this part of the ship, and be alert for any of those who fancied trying to swim back to France. Not that they'd have a hope, chained as they were. No his main worry was that he himself would fall overboard, leaving shorthanded, and a bad example.

He paced his patrol with even strides, his eyes everywhere at once, as he had learnt in the prison. Over by the rail, looking back towards France he spied a figure in convict wear. The man was engrossed in looking landward, though the only land either had known was gone behind mist. Javert approached ready to grab, seize and do his duty. His mission only became firmer as he reconised the prisoner... 24601. If anyone would try somthing, it was that man.  
He saw the convict's mouth move as he approached, praying for God's aid to get him out of this most likely. Javert scoffed the thought; the man had put himself beyond God by his crimes. It was to the strange sandy land of the British that he was bound with no way out. 24601 did not notice his approach and Javert knew that in four strides he'd be close enough to get him away. He stopped. The wind blowing untill now on his back had shifted direction so it wad to his face. With it came a low tune and erratic snatches if words his ears could pick up over the roar if the waves. Nonsense sounds 'turtle dove' 'arms of my sister' then more nonsense words. He hadn't realised 24601 could sing, much less that he had such a sweet pure tenor voice in his chest. Javert stood enthralled, straining his ears Abruptly 24601 turned back from the sea. He started, clearly not expecting to see Javert standing there and his eyes hardened back to the traditional surliness, skulking away with a resentful look at Javert's nightstick. But it was the split seconds before the surliness that Javert found stuck in his head as he tried to sleep in a rocking hammock which was too short. 24601's eyes, they had been full of greif, of longing and the knowledge that he would not see his home again. And in that, Javert realised, they were not so different, though one wore blue and the other convict clothes. 24601 was loosing more than him, he knew of the little children and the sister. And strangly, Javert found himself feeling sorry for the other man. 

**Author's Note:**

> The song is an adapted version of botany bay


End file.
